Timeon was the cousin of Jonas, one of the first of Uldyssian’s converts. Jonas had always been among the first of the Parthans to volunteer for different tasks, but he had never shown any desire to act as one of Uldyssian’s seconds. Still, the once-scarred man assisted his cousin in organizing their remaining comrades from the town…a group particularly smaller than the others now.
This must end soon, Uldyssian thought, watching those most like the people with whom he had grown up. Each time a Parthan died, more of Uldyssian’s past faded away. He had to finish his struggle before all of Jonas’s people were slain…and along with them the Hashiri and Torajians, too.
Uldyssian had not spent all of his time on Achilios. He had also explained, in an abbreviated form, his vanishing to his followers. Naturally, he had left out such fantastic details as Trag’Oul and Rathma, feeling that now was not the right time to try to explain them.
The edyrem marched come dawn the next day. Because of Lilith’s wicked detour, they had lost three more days in addition to those spent by him and Serenthia searching for Achilios. Three more days to give the demoness time to devise their doom…
The jungle proved unduly quiet as they wended their way through it. A few birds could be heard in the far distance and there were always insects, but even they were less evident than normally. Uldyssian took this as an omen, but did not mention it to anyone else, not even Serenthia. Still, he kept the edyrem watchful, reminding them that their enemies were cowardly and often sprang from the shadows rather than face them directly.
When they finally reached the river—half a day earlier than he had originally hoped—Uldyssian gave thanks. Their path was now clear again. Still, despite wanting to push on for at least another hour, he knew that he had already worn out the others too much. With reluctance, Uldyssian called for a halt.
The lone benefit of Lilith’s vile possession of Serenthia was that the demoness had brought with her from Hashiri charts of the regions leading to the lands surrounding the main temple. The charts were old, but they were accurate enough in identifying not only the general location of Uldyssian’s adversaries, but the largest population centers between him and the Triune.
“Yes, I know of Kalinash,” answered Rashim to his question as he pointed to where the city lay. The bushy-haired Hashiri had served as an apprentice to a merchant and had made the journey there more than once. “It is a little larger than where I am from and the temple there would be strong, so near Kehjan.” His finger slid more north. “Of Istani, I know little, save that it is smaller than Hashiri and not so rich despite its location.”
Saron acknowledged the second. “The Triune would not be so strong there. If the master wishes to reach the main temple swiftly, it would be good to take the road leading closer to there.”
On the one hand, Uldyssian agreed with that logic, but on the other, he did not like leaving the Triune’s supporters in Kalinash untouched, and especially at the edyrem’s rear when it came time to confront the main citadel. Yet, to veer toward Kalinash would further slow the trek and cost lives; both things that would only benefit Lilith.
“How quickly can we reach Kalinash?”
After a moment’s consideration, Rashim answered, “Four, five days.”
“And Istani?”
“Four.”
The path was quicker. More important, with a much smaller presence of the Triune, Istani promised not to slow them in terms of struggle. Kalinash might mean many days of blood…
With some reluctance, Uldyssian came to a decision. “Very well. Istani, it is. But we must move with all haste.”
The others nodded obediently and departed. Uldyssian looked to Serenthia for some confirmation that he had chosen wisely.
“I would’ve done the same,” she returned. Her brow furrowed. “What else is bothering you?”
“Two things…or two people. Achilios, as you know…and Mendeln.”
“Of course. I’ve discussed Achilios with you enough to sicken you, Uldyssian. Forgive me for not thinking about your brother. This—this Rathma. Do you think he can be trusted?”
He grunted. “I don’t know. As much as any of the blood of Lilith can be…which I suppose includes me far, far down the generations.”
“Then, Mendeln will be all right.” Serenthia considered. “His path converges with yours, but I think it also diverges more and more.”
“I don’t care anything about that, Serry.” He had returned to calling her by her childhood name, the better to keep in his head that they were friends, not lovers. Uldyssian had no desire to stomp upon the grave of his friend, especially now that he knew that grave to be empty. “I just want Mendeln safe.”
“As he does you.”
“But it would be good to hear some word. Some word.”
She shifted into a sleeping position near the fire. “I know. I know.”
And from her tone, Uldyssian understood that she desperately desired the same from Achilios.
Mendeln had never dreamt that he would return to Partha. That place was supposed to be far in his past. He had tried to erase his memories of the town, for in Partha had come what he felt the final severing of his life as a simple farmer and the beginning of all the cataclysmic changes for and within him. There had been no turning back after Partha, even more so than Seram, which the younger son of Diomedes was also glad to avoid.
Trag’Oul and Rathma had sent him here alone…for some final test, they said. As usual, their replies to his questions were murky. In the end, with the promise that he could rejoin his brother if he finished this task, Mendeln had agreed to return to the town.
And only after arriving had he realized that Trag’Oul had used the word “if”…
He did not actually stand in the town itself. No, Mendeln sensed that what he sought was far outside the town walls. Very close to where the Parthans disposed of their refuse. A faint hint of decay already indicated that he was near the spot.
There was no one else about. Those still living in the town—which surely had to be more than half empty—were likely asleep. The few guards would not be bothering with this area; who would be interested in their trash?
Mendeln certainly was not. He was only here because this also happened to be where the burning had taken place. According to Rathma, it was the best location to make the summoning.
Uldyssian’s brother had little desire to cast the spell, but his mentors insisted that it was necessary. He had the feeling that they were not telling him something…not at all a surprise. Their methods of teaching, especially that of Lilith’s son, left much to be desired.
The confrontation with Inarius had influenced this event. Of that, Mendeln was certain. After bringing him back to the dragon’s realm, Rathma had requested a private audience with the celestial beast. The first announcement after their discussion had been the requirement that Mendeln do this.
I should have refused, he told himself for the docent time. I should have demanded that they send me back to Uldyssian.
Somehow, though, even if he had, Mendeln knew that he would have ended up back in Partha.
From his robes, he removed his dagger. It would guide him to the exact location, so Rathma had said.
As soon as he held it up, it glowed. Mendeln turned, noting when the dagger flared brighter. Yes, he recalled the area well, recalled all the grisly events.
Here they and the Parthans had unceremoniously burned the bodies of the high priest Malic and his morlus.